Spare a Spear?
by ZeNami
Summary: Axel, Demyx and Roxas decide to pull a prank on Xaldin. Wrath ensues. Oneshot. Enjoy :3


-- Kingdom Hearts II - Spare a Spear? --

"Okay, shh, shh... quiet, he might wake up."

"Ow! Demyx, get off my foot!"

"Geez, sorry. Ah, don't hit me!"

"Guys, shut _up_!"

The voices came in hushed whispers as the three figures in black cloaks crept farther into the dark room; it was hard to see much of anything, though the faint outlines of furniture indicated a bedroom. And asleep in the bed, arms curled around a soft spear plushie, was Lord-Too-Many-Spears himself, Xaldin. Funny, he was actually quite pleasant until he was awake- and the trio of trespassers were hoping he would keep on slumbering like a baby.

"Where is it?" One of the taller figures crept forward toward the center of the room, green eyes marked underneath with small inverted triangles trying to peer further into the dark.

"Axel, over here." The shortest of the three gestured with one hand for the redhead to come over; he was standing in front of a big oak cabinet, graced with the organization's symbol across both doors.

"Haha, alriiiight." The sitar player made his way over first, rubbing his gloved hands together in excitement. "Come on, Roxas, open it up."

The spiky-haired blonde grasped both handles in his own gloved hands, and pulled; the two doors swung open with a muted creak, and there before them, was their goal. Their treasure. Six beautiful, intricate, very sharp spears, all lined up in a row on a customized rack.

Axel hiked a brow and gave an admiring whistle. "Well, well, well. Look what we got here."

Demyx grinned. "Which one?"

Roxas reached forward, gripping the spear-shaft of the weapon farthest to the left. "This one," he said with a small grin, and gave it a tug; the spear came loose from the rack with a scraping noise.

Instantly all three heads snapped toward the bed in a moment of tense panic- but Xaldin slept on, muffled snoring noises being the only sounds he made. The trespassers breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's get out of here." The pyro swiped the spear from the boy's hands, earning a small protest of 'hey!' before the smaller blonde was quickly shushed by the other two. He complied. Silently as they'd come in, the trio left, taking their prize with them.

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The clock ticked off 8 AM in the morning when Demyx dragged himself into the kitchen; he still had yet to get properly dressed, so he had on only a sleeveless white shirt and a pair of boxer shorts bearing a pattern made up of little versions of his sitar. Rubbing sleep from his eyes and running a hand over his bedhead dark blonde hair, he dropped down into one of the kitchen chairs and let his head flop forward onto the table, arms hanging limply at his sides.

Nearby, the boss himself was at the kitchen counter, making coffee already in uniform and ready for the day. Demyx lazily turned his head on the table toward him, ear pressed against the cold surface.

"Hey, Mansex."

Twitch. "What did you just call me?"

"Nothin'. Coffee?"

"...fine." Xemnas proceeded to pour an extra cup of coffee for the lazy musician, when suddenly-

_CRASH._ "Where the hell is it?! WHO TOOK IT?! **RAAAAGH!!**

Demyx sat bolt upright in his chair, eyes wide. "Oh... this can't be good."

Xemnas sighed and took a sip of coffee.

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The ticking of the clock in the background silence seemed to fade right into the lack of noise; Roxas liked it. He really didn't feel like getting up yet, lying on his stomach with his head tucked into the pillow, eyes closed- he was completely relaxed. Of course, such peaceful moments tended not to last, especially around here.

The door was thrown open by a very terrified-looking Demyx, who proceeded to launch himself onto the bed and shake Roxas by the shoulders. "Aah, wake up wake up wake up! He's gonna kill us!"

"Demyx, get the hell off me! You're hurting me!"

Axel chose this moment to walk by Thirteen's bedroom door. Unfortunately. i What... the hell.../i He pushed the door open, staring at the two of them with a stunned sort of 'wtf' expression. Demyx being in boxers didn't help much either.

"Aah! Axel!" he musician jumped from the bed, darting toward the redhead and grabbing his shoulders instead. "Xaldin's out for our blood! I don't want to feel his pointy wrath!"

A very disgruntled Roxas dragged himself out of bed. i Pointy wrath/i He yawned, heading over to his dresser, temporarily ignoring the raving lunatic. What was he on? This morning, anyway? Probably lack of coffee...

Meanwhile, Axel was trying to pry Demyx's fingers from the fabric of his cloak. "Demyx, Demyx, calm down." His brow was furrowed as he finally managed to peel the panicked blonde off of him. "Relax." He smirked. "He doesn't know it was us, right? so we're safe."

"Aw, man." Demyx shook his head, lifting a hand to push fingers through his spiked up hair. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"It was your idea," Roxas commented calmly, adjusting the hood of his cloak.

"Uh..." Demyx looked around awkwardly, then to Axel with an expression of pleading for help.

The pyro stared at him.

"Go put some pants on, Demyx."

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About an hour later, the currently present members of the organization were all lined up- not all were present, a few having been away for a while, making them irrelevant to the reason they were gathered here. That reason was pacing up and down the line, glaring at each member in turn as he passed them.

"Alright. Which one of you rats took my spear?"

"Hey Xaldin," Axel started, waving a hand lightly, then gesturing to Xemnas and Larxene, who were standing off to the side. "How come they aren't being interrogated with the rest of us?"

Xaldin paused in his pacing and crossed his arms. "Because Xemnas is our leader."

"And Larxene?"

"She's not an idiot."

"Dude, ouch." Xigbar folded his arms over his chest, frowning and pulling an expression of hurt.

Demyx had taken up playing air guitar and was paying very little attention to whatever was going on- probably his way of coping with the inevitable panic attack. Roxas was watching him like he was a complete moron, but he didn't bother stopping him. It was kind of entertaining, actually.

"You, it was you, wasn't it?" Xaldin stopped and stared Xigbar straight in the face.

The sharpshooter leaned back slightly, also slightly raising a hand in self-defense and looking a little offended. "Whoa, man. I don't appreciate you shutting me down like that."

"..." After a brief pause, Xaldin shifted his death glare to the last three remaining members- Axel, Roxas and Demyx. "You three."

Axel looked up to Xaldin with an innocent 'who, me?' expression; Roxas fixed the spear-weilder with his trademark 'Please die now' stare. Demyx continued his air guitar solo until a sharp elbow from the pyro jarred him back to reality, and his eyes widened, swallowing and glancing up to Xaldin with a 'please don't kill me' smile.

"Axel." Xaldin focused on the redhead first; he stopped directly in front of the pyro, peering into his smug, smirking face. "Where is it?"

"Now Xaldin," Axel said smoothly, not moving at all. "I'm flattered, really. But do you really think I could have done it _all by myself_?"

Xaldin's head snapped suddenly toward the other two. Roxas did nothing. Demyx accidentally let out a little girly squeak, at which point Axel rolled his eyes.

Roxas smiled. "Xaldin sleeps with a plushie." Larxene snorted and covered her mouth.

Xaldin twitched. "how do you kn-" Quite suddenly, the three suspects bolted from the room- Axel and Roxas laughing, Demyx screaming 'Run awaaaaay!' and then something about Xaldin's pointy wrath. Xaldin took after them a moment later- "I'll show you pointy wrath you little...!"- leaving Xemnas, Larxene and Xigbar just sort of... standing there.

"...Well I'm not dealing with that," Larxene said, quickly spinning on her heel and making herself scarce while trying not to laugh out loud because Master of the Pointy Wrath slept with a plushie.

"I'm out." Xigbar followed suit, leaving a semi-stunned Xemnas behind to track down and subdue an angry Xaldin, in order to save a trio of organization members from a pointy, bloody end.

The silver-haired leader sighed, rubbing his brow with a gloved hand. "I hate life."


End file.
